“Stupid Boy” starts like it’s trying to keep itself afloat. A playful bass synth holds the center while River’s vocals, guitar, and violin swim circles around one another, tense but fluid and controlled. Then 1000 Rabbits change the current. The London five-piece lets the song swell into something louder, messier, and truly cathartic, its different parts increasingly colliding rather than sharing space, biting at one another. There’s a live-wire quality to the whole thing, which tracks: the band apparently developed the song onstage, experimenting with group vocals, dancing, and shouting. By the time “Stupid Boy” finally breaks open, it’s more than a crescendo – it’s skin tearing, blood in the water, and damn does it taste good. — Alex Krinsky
Anna McClellan’s new song “Anywhere,” which features production from the Philly-based artist Gloorp, splits the difference between refined and raw. McClellan’s out here spilling her guts on the mic, but the frenetic backbeat is dizzying and delirious, providing a powerful and percussive undercurrent to McClellan’s meditations on the complexities of change. It’s an unexpected pairing, but the resulting track hits hard. — P. Ragusa
Christine and the Queens return in full technicolor maximalism on “Rendez-vous avec toi” / “Rendez-vous in Your Arms” — released in French and English, respectively — a rush of desire built around a fresh disco groove and blissful bassline made to lock bodies into motion. There’s a consistent longing running through the song: that feeling of waiting all day for night to arrive so you can finally be with the person on the other side of it. At its core is the neon idealism of ’80s pop — all glowing synths, grand gestures, and belief in the transformative power of the dancefloor — but Chris keeps it firmly in the present, turning that nostalgia into something theatrical, living, luminous, and cosmic. Rather than treating longing as something private, “Rendez-vous” blows it up into a celebration. It’s also the first glimpse of their album due next spring. — A. Krinsky
Computerwife’s new LP, Born from a Wish, drops in full today, and it’s more than worth a listen for any fans of grungy, hooky, slightly left-field indie rock. “Hammered” arrived earlier this week as the project’s final pre-release single and is a succinct example of how the outfit balances subtle experimentation with songwriting that’s inviting and immediate. At its core, “Hammered” is a ’90s-inspired rock tune with chorus tones and a dynamic structure. As it goes on, though, the tempo continuously increases until it feels like the whole song might just fall apart. It’s an effective trick and just one of the many impressive ideas found on Born from a Wish. — Jonah Krueger
Canadian pop star and producer ELIO has officially signed to Fader Label and launched her new era with “PRIMADONNA,” an infectious, short-but-sweet showcase. “Fuck around cross that line/ Go and see what you find,” she warns over a laid back, acoustic guitar-laced beat; she may be telling someone to put up or shut up, but ELIO sounds remarkably chill, something emphasized by the loose gang vocals that follow her catchy refrains. When she’s in this mood, ELIO is untouchable. — P. Ragusa
Oso Oso is officially back, as the Jade Lilitri-led act releases their newest studio album, an exchange of information, today. Expectedly, the thing is chock-full of emotive hooks, killer production, and endlessly satisfying song structures. “the facts,” which the band shared earlier this week, features all of that and more. Anthemic in a very Oso Oso fashion, the track effectively spends its first half building tension before breaking into a guitar solo and a charged, driving finale. I don’t recommend missing out on the tune or the record. — J. Krueger
On “ddr,” Yaeji turns the dancefloor into something playful, communal, and free of judgement, pairing footwork-inspired percussion with the button-mashing language of Dance Dance Revolution. Created with New York underground fixtures Enayet and K Wata, the track moves with a restless pulse, while Yaeji’s invitation to “dance it all away” feels less like escapism than a reminder that dance can be restorative. Part of the freedom in the message comes from how fully she embraces the reference point: DDR was never about looking cool but missing steps, sweating through your shirt, and having fun doing it. Yaeji taps into that same space here, where arcade nostalgia crashes into club music, chaos becomes release, and dancing badly or brilliantly means nothing so long as you give yourself over to it. — A. Krinsky